


no light, no light

by cryystal_m00n



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, M/M, The Author Regrets Everything, but its more like enemies to something to something more?, but they are also dumb, damen gets bullied by everyone out of ~love~, himbo damen, no work ethics whatsoever, they are in love your honor, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26372776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryystal_m00n/pseuds/cryystal_m00n
Summary: who would have thought that almost getting run over would land damen with the biggest enemy of his life? maybe god and jokaste, but clearly not damen himself. and they say romance is dead.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	no light, no light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jjaebri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjaebri/gifts).



> i have no idea what the hell is happening in this, but please trust me i had a plan. i just decided to ignore said plan and fuck everything up by leaving so many plot holes that this should be called a ficnet (haha get it fishnet so funny so quirky). i've never written a captive prince fic until now, so if it sucks, just know... there was an attempt... the title of this fic is from no light, no light by florance aka one of the songs everyone uses for these 2 idiots 
> 
> huge shoutout to isis (jenomeow) who had to read this joke of a fic first and beta it. shes the real mvp, the only one who deserves rights. a queen, a god, literally a whole angel

damen enters the office already dreading the day ahead of him. he dropped his coffee on the way here, and lord knows he won’t drink the shitty office coffee no matter how many times jokaste tries to tell him it’s good; he _almost_ got run over by an asshole driving the nicest mercedes he’s ever seen, who didn’t even bother to apologize for causing damen to have a premature heart attack; the lift was out of order when he got to the office, so poor, under caffeinated and barely running on adrenaline damen had to climb ten flights of stairs, and to top it all off, the same asshole that was _this_ close to killing damen had to be the hottest asshole he’s ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on.

a bad start for an even worse day.

the moment he steps foot on the tenth floor, the marketing and finance floor, he is met with the common occurrence of jord and nikandros trying to run away from jokaste’s wrath. he doesn’t need to ask what happened anymore; most likely the two men tried to convince jokaste to give them some of her emergency wine, and when she refused, they tried to steal it. really, the two should know by now that jokaste doesn’t share her booze.

damen swiftly avoids getting hit by a flying pen, ducking just in time. he picks up the stationary piece, examining it quickly before he aims for nik’s head. closing one eye, damen throws the sparkly alien green pen at nik. his so-called best friend moves out one second too early, and before he knows it, the pen hits someone else right in the forehead.

the man sports an annoyed expression, eyeing damen with distaste. despite only seeing the man once, when he was blinded by rage and the terrifying near death experience, damen recognizes the long blond hair in mere seconds. he’s still as hot as when he was glaring at the brunet from behind the car’s steering wheel, but now that damen gets to see him, _all_ of him, he can’t stop himself from thinking that the angry blond is… cute. smaller than him, with a few strands of hair pinned back so that his face isn’t covered, wearing a light blue button up that’s tucked into his gray pants and a matching blazer resting on his shoulders.

damen only thinks of him as cute because he reminds him of a kitten, a very scowly one who is ready to claw his face just for looking at it for one second too long.

“you—” the brunet doesn’t get to finish whatever insult was brewing in his head, because the angry blond clears his throat, eyes finally moving from damen to inspect the rest of the marketing staff.

“i assume you are aware about auguste vere’s departure from the company due to personal reasons, am i correct?” hot headed kitten asks, his voice as cold as ice. despite the obvious sharpness, his voice is still smooth, the words rolling off his tongue with a slight accent. french, perhaps? “well, as of today, i am stepping up as the company’s ceo. should you have any problems regarding this sudden change, i advise you to leave them written with my secretary.”

“and who the hell are you to become the ceo, pretty boy?” damen hears himself speak, his brain completely not cooperating with him today.

angry blond’s stare almost makes damen shudder, but he knows better than to show his fear (blatant horny desire) to angry, yet definitely beautiful, blonds. “laurent vere, a…” laurent’s eyes skim over damen’s relaxed posture, settling on his face. he’s frowning now, and that _totally_ doesn’t make the brunet grin widely. “pleasure to meet you,” he says in the end. “and you are?”

“damen akielos, manager of the marketing team and spiritual father of,” he does a quick headcount of the people in his department, “seven rascals! an _absolute pleasure_ to meet you, pretty boy! or should i say bossman?”

something flashes in laurent’s eyes, but it is gone as soon as it appears. the blond straightens his back, his hands running over his blazer to smooth it out. “well then, damen akielos, you better keep your team under wraps and not engage in… office wars with them from now on. i do not wish to fire someone on my first day here, i’m sure you understand.” the blond gives damen a curt smile, rolling his eyes when he finds the manager gracing him with the same idiotic grin.

“oh, no worries, pretty boy! i will make sure my troupe doesn’t start a riot against the finance team for stealing all the chocolate pretzels from the vending machine! speaking of, bossman! can you do something about that? maybe just get us a vending machine filled with chocolate pretzels? hmm, maybe some seaweed chips too… you know what, i’ll make a list!”

god, damen is having way too much fun watching the blond’s cheeks turn redder and redder with each second that he keeps sprouting bullshit. pays him right for almost killing him before he could get a chance to torment him into getting wrinkles on his gorgeous face.

“i will make sure to tell ancel to overlook any such requests from you, damen akielos. now, if you will excuse me, i have many other departments i must speak with.” and with that, laurent turns on his heels and storms out of the marketing department’s office, leaving behind seven stunned people and one laughing damen. to no one’s surprise, the man walks with as much confidence as when he speaks.

it’s charming, but damen still wants to punch that smug look of superiority off the blond’s face.

“guys… was i the only one who felt like there was _waaaay_ too much sexual tension between those two?” jord asks, frowning at damen in confusion.

“nah, i felt it too, jordie. the tension was suffocating me! i felt seconds away from either dying or being mentally scarred by damen and the new boss whipping out their dicks and making out on the office floor!” nikandros agrees with his boyfriend, of course he does, going as far as pretending to be blinded by the rather graphic image he’s just described.

jokaste hits the two over their heads, to which damen sends her a thankful smile.

the brunet claps, grabbing the people’s attention. “alright kids! let’s get to work and show pretty boy that the marketing department is the most competent and most hard working in the whole company!” everyone begins to laugh, as if he’s just cracked the funniest joke known in human history.

shaking his head at the lack of respect, damen heads to his own desk. the bad incidents that happened throughout the morning suddenly mean nothing to him, not when he gets to have an angry kitten as his boss, a boss he cannot wait to rile up until they either end up making out on the office floor, or punching each other with folders.

both options sound pretty great to damen, if he’s being honest. he loves a man who can throw a punch, and hate sex has always been more of his thing… at least with jokaste, that is. he pushes the thought away before it can fully form.

no more pretty blonds that make his heart hurt; only work is allowed on his mind right now. that and cute blonds he can annoy.

they go hand in hand, after all.

* * *

laurent doesn’t visit the tenth floor after the first meeting, which damen doesn’t blame him for. after all, both the management team and the finance team are godawful, and if they’re put together, one’s got themselves the recipe for utter disaster.

still, damen sends his request for a new vending machine and the snacks they desire to the ceo. he sends it once, through jord, in an attempt to fool the secretary, but it doesn’t work, and the man comes back blushing red and with the written piece of paper crumpled in his hand.

and so, the brunet takes it upon himself to take the elevator to the top of the building, just three floors, and stomp over to the secretary and act like a karen so that he and his team can get their much desired snacks!

the moment he sees laurent’s secretary, he gets why jord came back to the tenth floor looking like a tomato. the man, ancel, as the little plaque with his name says, is undoubtedly gorgeous. long red hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, with a few strands let loose to frame his face. his eyes aren’t looking at damen, focused on his laptop screen instead, but even behind the small reading glasses perched on top of his nose, damen can still tell they are a beautiful shade of green. for a brief moment, the brunet wonders if one of the criteria to work here is to look like a living doll made out of porcelain.

at last, ancel lifts his eyes. his face breaks into a smile, as if recognizing damen. “i was wondering when you would come here yourself, mister akielos. i’m afraid mister vere had instructed me to not let you in _nor_ accept anything you have to offer me unless it is strictly work related.” the redhead’s voice is much softer than laurent’s, but there is the same undertone of amusement lacing around the words.

“and should that stop me? i came all the way here!”

ancel rolls his eyes, settling back in his chair. “mister akielos, i would love to let you in and witness whatever shitshow the two of you would create together, but i also do not want to lose my job just yet. i quite like working for lau, especially when he doesn’t work himself to death! he’s… fun to tease,” he winks at damen, “but i’m sure you already know that.”

“can you just… slide him the note? i don’t know man, when you pass him whatever papers the big guy needs to go over just… slip _mine_ in between and he will approve of it and everyone will be happy!”

the man shakes his head, still wearing that teasing smile. “can’t help you, sir. my hands are tied.” ancel lifts his very much free hands in the air, winking at damen. “give it to him yourself.”

“i can’t! i hate his guts and he hates mine!” damen whines. he walks around the hallway, trying to calm down so that he doesn’t, lord forbid, begin pouting in front of this breathtaking man.

“well…” ancel looks back to the lit screen. “you know that most enemies become friends and then something more along the line. just snatch that vending machine when you also snatch his heart!” he says it so simply, as if damen can just walk over to laurent and confess his undying love. as if there is _any_ love to confess of.

damen guesses it’s finally time to move back to greece and perish in a field of grapes like his one true ancestor once did, but unlike dionysus, he will make sure he doesn’t just pass out from too much wine.

he pouts at the redhead. the redhead pouts back. god, his is so much cuter than damen’s.

“fine,” damen sighs, stuffing the piece of paper in his pocket, not bothering to keep it neat. he can reprint it anyway. “i give up, _for now,_ but i won’t befriend that stuck up pretty prince wannabe even if you were to pay me in real gold, you got it?”

“don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sir.” ancel lifts his arms up in surrender and continues, “he’s really nice. his only flaw is that he has tunnel vision when it comes to his work, but that’s not my place to explain.”

looking around the hallway once more, damen fixes his look on the dark walls behind ancel’s desk. he frowns, squinting at it. he can feel someone’s gaze on him, burning holes through his nice shirt. he frowns harder, more aggressively.

“he likes his coffee with milk, two sugars and two pumps of hazelnut syrup, just so you know. worst case scenario, no hazelnuts. do what you want with that information, mister akielos,” ancel nods at him once, without bothering to look up from where he started typing on his computer.

not knowing what else to do, now that the secretary clearly won’t pay any more attention to him, damen turns on his heels and heads back to the elevators. just before pressing the button to open the door, he looks over his shoulder. “tell pretty boy that this isn’t over yet, will you? i’m declaring a war which i do not intend to lose.”

ancel chuckles. “i will make sure to deliver the message, mister akielos. i’m sure mister vere will love to hear that.”

damen leaves the room knowing well that laurent has no way of winning, not when damen is keen of making pretty blonds’ lives a living hell. he’s smiling all the way back to the tenth floor, and if jokaste spends a second too long staring at his eat shitting grin, neither of them comment on it.

* * *

there is a child running amok in his office and damen is almost one hundred percent sure that there _shouldn’t_ be a child even breathing near him. sure, most of his coworkers behave like toddlers, but they aren’t as small as the one that’s staring at damen from across the room.

“am i… the only one seeing the kid here?” he asks to no one in particular, looking around to see if anyone else is just as confused as he is.

jord lifts his eyes from the report he’s writing and gives damen a simple shrug. “he’s been here for a while but he hasn’t responded to any of us yet. he did go visit the finance guys but ryan brought him back saying he kept messing with their stuff. so nik gave him some juice and left him be.”

“i’m fourteen, technically i am _almost_ an adult!” the kid argues from across the room.

damen feels his eye twitch. closing them and taking a deep breath to calm himself, the same way his therapist taught him to, damen thinks this through. it must be a dream, after all, there is no way one of his kids has some of their own. just a nightmare from which he will wake up after he takes another _deep_ breath.

it doesn’t work, because when he opens his eyes, the kid is still looking at him with an all too familiar face and jord is no use in this crisis.

“okay, this is bad… really bad…”

at last, the kid seems to be fed up with all of their bullshit. “hey, old man! catch!” damen doesn’t even have time to think before he’s hit with what feels like an eraser but could totally pass as a ten kilo brick for all he cares.

damen then gets hit with a feeling of deja-vu, one that unlike those he’s had before --whips flogging his back when someone slaps his shoulder too hard, knives being pressed into the side of his neck when people lean over in too close, the smell of salve invading his room when he least expects it, images of royalty pulling him close, closer, as if afraid he will die-- is much nicer.

and thus a game of tag begins between the kid and damen. the boy is fast, despite his shorter legs, but damen has the advantage of knowing the office’s layout by heart. sure, he may be able to jump over nik’s stretched out legs and duck under jokaste’s chair with impressive precision, but damen knows how to cheat like a pro. so while the kid has his back turned to him, the man goes through the kitchen and exits just in front of the boy, a menacing grin spread across his features.

“got you!” he yells, grabbing the kid and throwing him over his shoulder. the boy shouts in protest for a second, before his cries turn into giggles as damen begins to jag his fingers into his sides, a poor attempt at tickling him.

“i surrender! i give in!”

still reluctant about his intentions, damen puts the kid down. he stares down at him, while the boy glares up at damen. those blue eyes are far too familiar, but damen just can’t put his finger on it… for a brief moment he thinks of laurent’s eyes; the two do have the same shade of blue _and_ the same coldness in them, but laurent is blond! this kid can’t be related to him! he refuses to even think about it!

“are you going to tell me why you’re here kiddo?” damen asks, petting down some of the kid’s out of place strands of hair. too wavy; laurent’s hair looks more like silk, soft and nice to tug at. damen shakes those thoughts off.

the boy shrugs, and if damen knew any better he would say he actually looks uncomfortable here. so, like any other responsible adult, he turns around and glares at his coworkers until their prying eyes are no longer on the child. “that’s fine, kiddo, you don’t have to tell me. can i at least know your name?”

“nicaise,” he answers. his eyes still glance from time to time somewhere behind damen, even as the man crouches down to see him eye to eye.

holding his hand out, he says, “i’m damen! a pleasure to meet you, nicaise!” the boy scoffs, but damen doesn’t get discouraged. he _knows_ he can get along with him and make jord proud with his vibing skills! “so, kid…” looking around the office, damen’s eyes stop right on the kitchen door. “you want some cake?”

nicaise’s face breaks into a smile and that’s all damen needs before he starts dragging the boy towards the kitchen, where one of nik’s new sugary monstrosities is waiting on the table for anyone to try. he cuts the boy a slice, probably too big for him, but the spark that appears in those blue eyes, hopeful yet scared, as if damen will laugh in his face any moment now… without thinking, damen picks out one of the nicer fondant figurines and adds it on top of nicaise’s slice. “here you go!” he says, thrusting the plate in the boy’s hands. “eat up and if you want some more just help yourself!”

“i can… have all this?” he asks, voice quiet, unsure. damen tries his best to give the child a reassuring smile, not very fond of the air of insecurity that seems to have clouded his sarcastic demeanor. “of course! all yours, kiddo!”

“thanks, old man…”

damen just ruffles his hair one more time, before pouring himself another mug of coffee and sitting across from nicaise at one of the tables. the boy takes his time eating the cake, which damen doesn’t mind. this gives him the opportunity to actually go through today’s emails and prioritise the tasks that need to be handled immediately. he sends back whatever replies he can, forwards some mails to people in his department, marks some others as spam, and by the time he is done, nicaise is only halfway through his slice of cake.

“you alright, kid?”

nicaise looks up. for a moment, damen can see the fear overtaking nicaise, but just like that, the boy’s snarky personality comes back before damen can get to dwell on it for too long. “do i look like i’m done, old man? why don’t you get some glasses if you can’t even see?”

“fair point, kid. why don’t you go back to kindergarten so that they can teach you how to respect your elders, hm?”

nicaise frowns at him. damen smiles in response, leaning in to grab some of the cake’s frosting on his finger and smear it on the boy’s cheek. he reminds the man of an angry chipmunk. it’s so adorable he could cry, and once again he’s hit with the image of laurent’s cute angry face. they do look weirdly similar… no, damen doesn’t want to think of his asshole boss while he’s… babysitting (?) this more or less precious child who could _not_ even be related to laurent! the child doesn’t deserve this, he’s too sweet!

“finish your cake, child,” damen says, breaking their staring contest. he smiles behind his phone when nicaise sticks his tongue out at him, the frosting still on his cheek. yeah, he’s _definitely_ too cute to come from whatever ground of hell like laurent.

nicaise leaves somewhere around noon, when most people are starting to take their lunch breaks. but until then, he made sure to annoy damen into playing scrabble with him (and getting annihilated by this 14 year-old language prodigy in the process) and then promptly bugging him some more just because he found it funny whenever damen sighed at the interruption.

at the end of the day, damen still has no idea why nicaise appeared on the tenth floor, nor does he know who the adult responsible for him is. though, if he had to guess, he still wouldn’t choose laurent.

* * *

two months since his last trip to laurent’s office, damen looks up from his phone --it’s a slow day, people aren’t really in the mood to work when there’s a heatwave taking over the city-- to find two workers carrying in a brand new vending machine. still frowning, he watches as they deposit it in the kitchen, before leaving with a nod directed at him. right, he’s the manager, he should at least nod back. they’re gone before he can do that, but it’s the thought that counts.

“did you pay them to steal this from the finance people?” jord asks him, coming up from somewhere behind damen without making a sound. damen jumps in surprise, sending his friend a glare.

“i’m _not_ that awful!” he gasps in mock offense. “i would _never_ torment the finance people!” jord gives him an unimpressed look, to which damen simply shrugs. “maybe they filled it with poisonous food and sent it over as revenge for that time we filled their air vents with moldy cheese, who knows? you know they’re weird.”

jord hums in agreement, and the two watch as everyone else slowly makes their way to the new vending machine. in between confused questions about how it came to be here, why there are at least three slots designated for chocolate pretzels and who even eats seaweed chips, damen can hear nik’s rising voice as he calls for him.

“damen! there’s a note stuck on the side! it has your name, should i bring it to you?”

“don’t bother!” damen yells back, pushing himself out of his arguably comfortable chair. making his way through the curious crowd proves to be a lot harder when the said crowd is fighting over who gets to use the machine first. damen barely dodges an elbow aimed at his head, but unfortunately, he doesn’t manage to miss the hit he gets on his ribs. it will probably bruise, but he’s not a child and he _won’t_ whine about how much it hurt. “if you guys don’t stop acting like hungry hyenas, lord help me i will set this office on fire and lock you in!” the empty threat seems to do its job, and just how the sea parted before moses, his coworkers make room for him. some have the decency to look guilty.

once he gets in front of the machine, damen looks to where nik was pointing at. indeed, there is a sticky note stuck to the side, its ugly neon pink a visible contrast with the matte black of the metal. the note is a simple: _to the brute on the tenth floor_ , signed l. he vaguely hears nik mutter under his breath something about pretty little liars being outdated already for these cryptic messages, but the fanfare playing in his head is too loud. did he win the war despite not lifting a single finger? he has to have won! but how… why… is he in debt to laurent now?

he rips the sticky note from the machine and moves to the side. a silent _go ahead and murder each other for some gummies for all i care_ that his coworkers don’t miss on.

maybe laurent wrote something else on the note with invisible ink! a map to where he will find him to pay off this favor-- maybe a list of what he needs to do for him--

“there’s something written on the back, you know?” jokaste says, standing straight after having bent to quickly check the scribbles on the back of the note. “must be pretty important.”

sighing and mumbling under his breath about her lack of subtlety, damen turns the piece of paper around, only to have an empty head as soon as his eyes scan the words. no thoughts, head absolutely empty and devoid of anything but the sound of his own internal screeching.

_you owe me one for this, but i’m saving the favor for when i’m desperate. enjoy your pretzels. the war isn’t over, brute._

and oh, if damen doesn’t shiver at the thought of still having a fight to carry on. laurent may have taken this win, by giving up and letting him have what he asked for, but there are still many more battles to be fought.

“you ok there, damen?” jokaste asks, frowning at him. “you look like you either saw a ghost or you saw your brother with red paint smeared on his face… what does the note even say?”

“you didn’t read it?” damen says, choosing to ignore the mention of kastor. he’s not in the mood to be talking about his brother, and he clearly won’t do that with his once crush turned kastor’s girlfriend turned damen’s despair. jokaste shakes her head. “well, i guess this is only for me to know and for you to find out later, when shit does indeed go down.” he winks at her, just because he likes riling her up, even if she doesn’t show it.

jokaste is quiet for a moment, before her frown deepens. “did you get a sugar daddy?” damen chokes on his spit. did he? he is indebted to laurent now but can-- should he think of laurent as a potential sugar daddy? “god, i knew you would do that sooner or later,” the woman mutters, a small smile tugging at her lips, “i’m glad you’ve moved on, damen. even if you did it by getting an older man to buy you a vending machine.”

damen snorts to hide the pain those words make him feel. “as if i was actually into you, jokaste… we’re just best friends and i once made a joke that wasn’t funny and sure, you now fuck my brother, which, i do not get. what do you see in him? he’s ugly and he snores in his sleep! no hard feelings! still the bestest of friends, you and me!” jokaste gives him a look that is enough to tell she’s unimpressed by his rambling.

“whatever you say, damen.” jokaste reaches to give his shoulder a light squeeze, then she’s pulling away and walking back to her desk, as if nothing has happened. damen barely holds in the urge to stick his tongue out at her, like the man child jokaste has always called him.

pocketing the piece of paper, damen easily pushes the lingering thoughts of laurent to the back of his mind. it’s not the time, nor the place, as responsible as it may sound of him. he goes back to his desk, the note weighing heavy in his pocket, despite the way he is trying to ignore it.

he will not become some sort of… of a slave for laurent! that would be stupid of him, almost as stupid the recurring nightmares of his brother betraying him even more than he already has, of being chained with golden links, his skin glimmering in the cold sun of a long-forgotten land.

* * *

laurent walks in, as always, in the middle of pure chaos. one of the interns, a young boy named erasmus, has made the decision of visiting the finance guys, well, only one of them in particular, and this spurred jord and nik into another attempt at attacking them for trying to steal one of their interns.

they were in the middle of dragging around one hundred pictures of keanu reeves to stick all over the rival office, damen trying to coax them into giving up on their plan while some of the eldest members filmed everything, shouting encouraging words to the two, when laurent steps into the office. he’s looking rather nice if damen were to say so himself; though, he isn’t, because there is no way laurent looks nice while glaring at his friends.

his eyes settle on damen, and for a moment damen thinks the blond’s breathing stops as he scans damen’s head. did he forget to brush his hair again? he knows it’s gotten to the point where he can put it in a small ponytail at the back, but he tries to at least brush his hands through it every now and then to avoid it getting tangled.

“can i help you, boss?” he asks, self-consciously reaching a hand to push his bangs out. he _swears_ he sees laurent swallow a knot in his throat, never looking away from damen’s head. interesting…

“you managed to keep nicaise entertained some time ago, am i correct?” damen nods, prompting laurent to elaborate. why does laurent know about nicaise? did he find him in the company’s halls and scolded him? is damen now a suspect of murder? he can’t save laurent even if he gave him a vending machine full of his (and his coworkers’) favorite snacks! “very well. i expect you to be able to do the same in about…” he checks his watch, frowning slightly as if he’s calculating something in his head. “ten minutes?” wait...what?

“wait… what?” he says, shocked. he is in pure shock. does this mean… does this really mean that… that nicaise, the sweet summer child that bullied damen _out of love and the bonding they’ve had_ is related to-- to this pretty asshole who has him chained by an imaginary need to fulfill a favor he _didn’t_ ask for?

“auguste asked me to watch him, but he doesn’t seem to be that fond of sitting in my office and playing on his switch, and he told me how you played with him while everyone chose to ignore him. so? can i bring him here, are you busy?”

brain too dumb to catch up to what laurent has just asked of him, damen doesn’t answer him. what _could_ he even answer with? he’s just staring at the blond man, eyes wide and mouth open, gaping like a fish.

“he’s not busy at all, mr. bossman sir!” nik says cheerfully, dropping an arm around damen’s shoulders, putting his whole weight on the man. “in fact, he was just talking about nicaise and how much he misses the kiddo yesterday! i think it’s safe to say he’s more than welcome here!” nik sends laurent a cheeky wink, before ruffling damen’s hair. they both notice the way laurent glares at nik’s hand.

“well then, he should be here soon.” turning on his heels, laurent begins walking the distance to the elevators, back straight, his hair falling down his shoulders in delicate waves. just before getting too far away from the crowd, he glances over his shoulder, right into damen’s eyes. “thank you, damen.”

like the idiot he is, damen shoots _finger guns_ at laurent. it might be his imagination, but he swears he sees the blond’s cheeks redden. huh, who would’ve thought the mighty blond asshole can blush so easily… he will have to try some more ways to get laurent to blush, otherwise he won’t be happy with himself.

for now, he decides to put the war aside, and instead will focus on flustering laurent into a red mess. sounds like a fair plan.

* * *

nicaise turns out to be much more of a brat than last time he was here. now that the cat is out of the bag about him being laurent’s nephew, he doesn’t seem to be holding back on bashing the people in his uncle’s company.

it starts off simple, with him calling out jord’s slacking the moment he steps foot in the office, which is something everyone does at least once a day, but then, it gets progressively worse. a comment on jokaste’s unprofessional wine collection that’s hidden in her desk, a snarky callout for paschal’s inability of making his tummy stop aching despite being dubbed _the physician_ and having a small pharmacy in his bag and even calling nik a dumbass for thinking that he can finish a twenty slide powerpoint in less than an hour. but by far, the moment that the whole management team goes dead silent is when nicaise laughs in erasmus’ face when he accidentally drops a mug of coffee on the floor.

damen is next to nicaise in an instant, while nik runs over to where erasmus is frozen in place, apologies falling from his lips at rapid speed.

“nicaise,” damen says, a hand resting on the boy’s shoulder, “you can make fun of us, the people who actually work here, but don’t be mean to the interns, okay? they’re not paid nearly enough to have to put up with a bratty kid who thinks it’s fun to mess with people. and erasmus is just a kid himself, nicaise. would you like to have a child laugh at you when you’re barely surviving from uni _and_ work?”

nicaise at least has the decency to look guilty, not meeting damen’s eyes. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles, looking at the ground and fidgeting with his fingers, picking at the skin around his nails. damen sighs, reaching with his hand to stop the boy. pushing nicaise towards the intern, he says, “it’s fine, just apologize to erasmus.”

with small steps, the boy moves towards erasmus. to damen’s surprise, he looks him in the eyes as he asks the intern for his forgiveness. erasmus, the angel that he is, smiles gently at nicaise. “i forgive you, nicaise. i know you didn’t mean it.”

“but… i did mean to laugh at you…”

“that’s fine,” erasmus places his hand on nicaise’s shoulders, his fingers still trembling. damen can still notice the faint tears that were threatening to fall. he can’t help but wish to wrap erasmus in his arms and reassure him that everything is fine now. “you shouldn’t condemn the way you feel at first? those aren’t what you mean at heart. as long as you know that what you did is wrong… then i am happy.”

nicaise sniffles at erasmus’ words, tears welling up in his eyes. the older boy puts his other hand on nicaise’s head. “may i hug you?” the young boy gives him a shaky nod, and next thing they all know, erasmus is pulling nicaise in his arms, while the young boy lets himself sob, clinging to the intern’s shirt and apologizing profusely.

“yo, can we adopt this kid?” jord asks him, whispering so that nicaise doesn’t hear it as well.

damen smiles, softly. he barely gets to hide the grin behind his hand before jord can tease him about his new found soft spot. he doesn’t want to think about himself and laurent taking nicaise to the amusement park, nor does he want to think about nicaise coming over to the office and bothering the workers into playing with him.

“if you want to fight the pissy blond cat and his brother, go ahead. but i’d rather not see laurent again, if that’s possible.”

jord scoffs, “as if.”

damen flips his friend off and leaves the two kids alone, so that they can hug some more. when he notices his co-workers aren’t moving from the crowd around them, he yells at the others, “scram off, people! don’t you have stuff to do? leave the boys alone and go do your jobs!”

erasmus gives him a thankful smile over nicaise’s head of curls. damen nods back at the intern and turns around, dragging jord along with him.

* * *

damen is on a mission of life and death; one wrong move and his whole life could be thrown away, as the pissy angry blond that haunts his dreams and thoughts rips at his neck with vigorous hands.

his hands tremble as he approaches ancel’s desk, trying his best to look as inconspicuous as possible, like his briefcase isn’t full of neon colored sticky notes. he just has to pass by ancel and then he can go wild in laurent’s office. just a few more steps, just some simple exchanged pleasantries with the redhead--

“what do you have in your briefcase, mister akielos?” ancel asks, barely suppressing the grin spreading on his face.

“just… some plans i wish to propose—“ ancel gasps. “about the marketing team’s future to mister vere.” damen glares at the secretary, but it melts away into a fond look far too quickly. “is he here?”

“oh, i am afraid you just missed him! but he should be back in no time! you can wait here if you’d like or—“

“can i wait inside?” damen cuts him off. he _knows_ ancel knows that there are no new plans to propose, but if the secretary would just play along, at least until he’s done with his masterplan.

ancel pretends to think for a moment, looking into the distance as if calculating the time until laurent is back. “i’ll try to win you some more time. do _not_ disappoint me, damen. i want to see laurent red in the face with rage,” the secretary whispers at him, a glint in his eyes.

“i— alright.” damen nods, more to himself. “i’ll see what i can do…”

ancel winks towards the man, pointing with his finger in the direction of the office door. “all yours, big guy!”

damen enters the room without looking back.

he’s never stepped foot in laurent’s actual office; he hasn’t even seen what the inside looks like through an open door, but now that he is inside, he can’t help but think that it’s oddly… plain. no funky decor, just black furniture, without a spot of dust on it. the windows may be the most exciting part, the whole wall behind laurent’s desk filled with floor to ceiling windows. the scenery is truly breathtaking.

damen wastes no more time on looking around though. he’s on a limited schedule and he _needs_ to hurry up.

he rips piece of paper after piece of paper, sticking each of them close to the last, barely leaving any space in between. if he is to do this, he’s ought to do it right. no room for any mistakes.

he doesn’t know when he loses track of time, but much faster than damen had expected, he places the last sticky note, right on laurent’s computer screen. he’s done, he’s actually finished sticking god knows how many little pieces of colored paper all over laurent’s room and now all he has to do is leave before laurent can catch him.

easy-peasy.

he gathers his things quickly, making sure to not leave anything of his behind, but then, just as he gets ready to open the door and slip out, he realizes that he _wants_ laurent to at least suspect him. he wants laurent to think of _him_ when he sees the mess in his office.

he reaches for the pencil he keeps in his pocket, a small thing, without much life left. he scribbles down a simple _the war is far from over indeed, your highness._ not too obvious, if he’s being honest.

he gets out after that, winking at ancel when the secretary asks him what he has done so long inside.

“film his reaction for me, will you? i wanna see him angry.”

ancel throws his head back as he laughs. “you, mister akielos, are one hell of a man. i’ll send you the video as soon as i can!”

damen _cannot_ wait for that.

he enters the elevators with a two finger salute aimed at the redhead. everything is going according to his nonexistent plan.

* * *

everything is _not_ going according to his nonexistent plan.

the video ancel sends him is nowhere near the radical reaction he was expecting to get out of laurent. it was the complete opposite, for fuck’s sake!

as soon as video laurent entered his office, his face went beet red, to which damen internally cheered, as any other normal enemy would. but then, to his utter shock, the blond covered his face, mumbling something rapidly in what seemed to be french.

and then, just before the video cuts off, damen hears it. he hears the way laurent whispers _brute, tu est adorable_ , in the cutest voice he’s ever heard. now, damen may not be that good at french, his only other known languages being greek, english and italian, but he prides himself in his romance languages skills and he _knows_ that laurent had just called him adorable!

what is he even supposed to do with this information? cry about it? blush bright red and hide his face in his arms until his co-workers stop poking fun at him? neither sounds like an enjoyable idea, yet here he is!

there’s no way laurent likes him… just, no way. enemies can only have sexual tension between each other, nothing else. but now, damen is beginning to doubt that.

he finds laurent hot, that much he’s come to terms with after their first meeting, but _nothing_ else! god, he doesn’t want to be laurent’s little dirty secret, no matter how hot office sex may sound.

he won’t let himself like laurent any more than he already does, and that’s his final decision.

(even though, albeit unknown to damen yet, his feelings are much, much stronger than the average _oh shit my boss is hot and i’d totally let him raw me_ feelings he thinks he’s harboring.)

* * *

it starts off with jokaste bluntly asking him if he and laurent are a thing, something that damen wasn’t expecting at 8 in the morning, after he’s just had his coffee. after he can breathe again, damen answers that _no, they aren’t and they will never be._

but then, from this small incident, it keeps on snowballing.

one by one everyone in the office questions him the exact same thing at least once, and every time damen is faced with such _accusations_ , he chokes on whatever he’s drinking or eating. one time he almost inhaled his pen when paschal had cornered him after a _professional_ meeting with the boss.

they don’t seem to stop, not even when damen keeps insisting that there is nothing going on between them and that their relationship is purely boss/employee. strictly that; maybe some enemies thrown in there.

and even so, the people in his office refuse to understand that!

maybe the fact that nicaise keeps coming over daily after his school hours are finished doesn’t help his case, _and_ maybe the fact that somehow laurent has indeed gotten his phone number so that he can ask about the whereabouts of nicaise isn’t a better argument for it either. this only means that damen is an amazing babysitter and that people should trust him more often around little tiny kids.

take today for example, when in the morning damen had been glued to his phone due to bombarding laurent with various memes in hopes that the blond would reply to any of them. for most of the tragic adventure, he got nothing except from one text letting damen know that nicaise will be a bit early today.

he could hear his friends whispering to each other everytime damen picked up his phone again, a broad smile spreading on his face whenever he caught sight of the _read_ receipt. he can always lie that he found a date on tinder, some pretty blond guy who looks like a vampire and has a foreign name, preferably something that sounds french.

when nicaise does turn up at the office, dragging his book bag on the floor, he quickly makes his way to damen’s desk, plopping himself in the man’s lap without a word. damen, no longer startled by this, wraps his arms around the boy, letting him calm down.

the people in the office have the knowledge to no longer talk about it, lest they want nicaise _and_ damen to glare at them.

“are the kids being mean again, nicaise? do you want me to go and fight them?” damen asks, not once stopping from rubbing the boy’s back.

nicaise snorts. “you won’t fight teenagers, damen. my uncle doesn’t enjoy brutes who bully kids.” pushing himself off from damen’s chest, the kid wipes his eyes of unshed tears. “he only likes brutes who take care of his nephew and come over for dinner so that he can thank them properly for it.”

for a brief moment, the whole office goes silent. damen is sure that if someone were to drop a pin somewhere on the fifth floor they would be able to hear it from here. maybe they didn’t _actually_ hear nicaise lowkey asking damen to have a date with his uncle. maybe they heard one of their enemies from the finance team sing abba again…

“dude…” jord begins, glancing from nicaise to damen, “you’re _sooooo_ fucking the bossman.”

damen’s face goes red, a curse on the tip of his tongue, but he chooses not to bother anymore. after all, hate sex is a thing, and maybe, just maybe, laurent would be into it…

“tell your uncle i like my stake medium rare,” he groans, hiding his face behind his hands.

nicaise chuckles, all traces of whatever was bothering him gone now. “noted!”

* * *

“so? how was it?” jokaste says, instead of a normal greeting the next morning.

“how was what?” damen responds, playing absolutely dumb.

“the dinner date.”

damen pretends to think for a moment, before he answers, dead serious. “we ate, he said thank you for babysitting nicaise and helping him with history and that was it.”

the woman frowns at her friend, not believing a single word of it. “just that?”

“yep!”

* * *

if throughout the day damen _accidentally_ forgets to mention that after one too many glasses of wine he and laurent may have kissed, and that it led to laurent crying in his arms for the rest of the evening, mumbling apologies for not being ready yet, that’s solely his problem.

* * *

their relationship doesn’t change much after the incident. damen still sends laurent pictures of angry cats with the caption of _you_ and he still sends him at least twenty memes a day and laurent still leaves him on read. he still glares at the blond when they pass each other on the halls, and laurent still mutters brute as he does that. nicaise has yet to stop coming over, and if damen tries hard enough, he can even pretend it never happened.

but deep down, damen knows that the kiss changed everything, even if they refuse to acknowledge it.

if they happen to be alone on the hallways, damen would always check if the blond is alright, although most of the time the check-ups are in the form of worried looks, to which, without a doubt, laurent would roll his eyes.

on lucky occasions, damen would get a smile from him, but those were rare, and they almost always happened when they were alone.

damen can’t say he likes the way their relationship has gone from enemies to somewhat friends who kissed once and who now know that they are into each other but one of them has too many trust issues to work through without hurting the other, but here he is, reassuring laurent that he doesn’t mind waiting, before sending him memes. he never said he’s that much better at emotions than laurent.

he just doesn’t know how things came to be like this, with no actual _oh_ moment for him. usually, he likes feeling the dread of falling for people out of his league and then getting his heart stomped over, but this time, it seems that the realization just dawned upon him once and he did nothing about it.

falling for people out of his league…

 _oh_ , there it is.

* * *

damen hates that his parents decided to raise him in greece and that instead of taking him away from the country and cutting off the relationship with his mother tongue and culture, they raised him bilingual. he hates it because now, he’s stuck with laurent in a stuffy room, full of potential greek collaborators and he has to play the role of an underpaid interpreter.

the blond keeps looking expectantly from time to time to damen, waiting for his translations. the greeks were going on and on about how amazing this opportunity would be for laurent’s company. his head started to hurt half an hour ago and with the way their partners are still rambling, damen doubts it will go away anytime soon.

they stop just enough for damen to translate for laurent.

“they’re saying you should invest because it will bring you way more profit and that if god forbid you decline you will never have an offer like theirs. ever.” damen takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “can you just accept so that we can leave? i just wanna go to sleep and or die. preferably with beer next to me to drown myself in cheap alcohol.”

laurent nods and smiles at the potential partners as sweetly as he can muster. “tell them my final decision is a no with a red heart.” damen gapes at him; he’s still smiling, as if he’s not throwing away a great opportunity for the company. “go ahead, damen. i wish to go back to the hotel as well.”

the brunet sighs. why did he sign up for this?

* * *

back in their hotel room, damen throws himself on the only bed they have. it’s big enough to fit them both, but damen has already decided he will take the small loveseat and let laurent take it. though, for now, he wants to just bury his head in the soft pillow and try to suffocate himself with it.

he feels the bed dip with laurent’s weight. there is still enough distance between them to not make the blond uncomfortable. “take a pill for the headache and then go to sleep, damen.”

“you didn’t call me brute today… that’s new,” damen says, turning his head to look at the other man. “what’s the occasion?”

the blond gasps, his hands placed over his heart in mock hurt. “what do you mean? i _never_ call you a brute! you wound me, damen!”

damen hums and rolls over so that he can sit up easily. “well then, you saint, where is my pill?” laurent holds up a tablet of ibuprofen and a bottle of water for him to take. “thanks.” he swallows the pill dry, used to it by now. the blond gives him a disgusted look, but doesn’t make any comments on it.

“so,” laurent starts.

“so,” damen says back, leaning his head on the wall.

“thank you, for today.” laurent doesn’t look at him as he speaks, his eyes glued to where his hands are playing with his rings. “i know you had important matters to attend to, but i’m truly glad you accepted to be my interpreter, even though the greeks turned out to be money hungry assholes.”

“don’t worry about it, bossman. i’m here to serve you, remember? just an employee caught in the death grips of a corporatist world where i hold no power over my present nor future!”

“that sounds rather sad, don’t you think?”

damen shrugs. “such is life, monsieur vere. some people are born to rule, some to be ruled. you learn to live with it once you realize you can’t do much to change it.”

“still… i never pegged you for a pessimist…” laurent finally looks at damen. “you have a golden retriever air around you.”

“thanks,” damen chuckles, “you have poodle energy.”

“because i’m french?” damen throws him the greasiest wink, accompanied by finger guns. “i hate you.”

“hah, you wish! you might’ve hated me in the beginning, but now you’ve realized i’m a delight, dear laurent!”

laurent snorts, “delight my ass.”

smiling to himself, damen reaches slowly for laurent’s hand. he rests it over the blond’s, watching for any signs of discomfort. “you like me enough to keep me around.”

“wrong. you’re an average babysitter for my nephew and you’re _kind of_ pretty.”

“i’ll take it.”

laurent turns his hand palm up and squeezes damen’s fingers lightly. it’s a small step, but damen has never felt happier.

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it this far, congrats! and i am very very sorry. esp to you rumzie. its not the gays you wanted,but the gays you deserved


End file.
